


Kyena's Tale

by TherealKyena



Series: Moonblade [3]
Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Depression, Drae and Kalen are the best siblings, F/F, F/M, Gang Rape, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/ Referenced past rape, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Kyleth for life, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Original Character Death(s), Protective Mother, Protective Siblings, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TherealKyena/pseuds/TherealKyena
Summary: Now it's Kyena's turn to tell her story.





	1. A Visit

She still felt hollow. Her heart carved from herself with the cruelest knife. Draennah tugged at her sleeves, trying to get her to play with her like she used to. To get her to smile and laugh. She tried everything, poor little toddler girl, to get her mother to stop sitting and staring at the fire. To make her awaken from what seemed like slumber.

She could feel that she’d lost weight. Lost muscle. Lost her sanity and her heart, twice over. One half and then the other. Landrelia and Draen. She knew that she had to move, get up, take care of her children and fight. 

But she was just so tired.

No matter how many times Drae pulled at her sleeve or crawled her way into her lap, she couldn’t rouse herself. It was like looking at her life through glass. Everything was happening but there was nothing she could do to intervene. 

Kalen, a bit older than Drae, was able to understand a bit better. He knew that something was wrong with his mother. He was the one that sat with her as quietly as a young boy could, just sitting there and talking at her.

The little boy had no idea how much that kept her tethered here. How it kept her from completely drifting away. 

Kyena was glad that Jaleth was still here. At least someone took care of the kids. Azshulaena was gone without a trace. Myn’ra was always off somewhere, searching for Lan while Kyena couldn’t. And Draen. Well, Draen was still in Silithus. Enah’thalas. 

As was Kyena.

She was still sitting in that blood soaked sand. Still watching the silithid bring its claw to a close around his waist. Still seeing how it waited until their fingertips touched to rip him away from her. 

It had been months since she’d come home. Months since someone had visited her. But that someone was one she had wished she’d never seen again.

~~~~~~

She’d gathered up his pouches full of seeds and other natural odds and ends. His clothes that he’d brought as spares. The staff that he had used was strapped to Kyena’s back when she shoved open the door of Elunheim a few months ago. Jai’alator was still in her hands. Zin’rhok over her shoulder. 

How quickly Jaleth had jogged into the room, giving Kyena a once over. 

She faintly remembered that her armor still had his blood on it.

“Draen? Where is Draen?” Jaleth asked her. He sounded so far away, as if he was underwater. A million miles away. Kyena could tell that he knew already, what her answer would be, but it still broke her heart further, sending icy shards through her blood to watch his face crumble, his hold on his daughter tightening as he held the wailing toddler to his chest.

“Sheodraen is never coming home.” 

And the world was swimming in front of Kyena’s eyes again as it fell away from her. She faintly felt the hardness of the wooden floors as she collapsed against it. She had no air. Her lungs were gone and withered and her whole being was sucked away.

She faintly heard Kalen’s footsteps come and go and the distant wail of Yen-Draennah, fell away. The strong arms were around her, hauling her to her feet. Numbly she watched him peel away the weapons, having first brought her to the small room they reclaimed as the armory, dropping Jai and Zin’rhok onto their racks. Draen’s staff found its way onto its own rack, never again to be lifted by his hand.

Jaleth led her to the bathing room in the far wing of Elunheim, his eyes roaming over her to look for wounds that needed cleaning as he removed her sodden gear. He’d done it so many times, helping Kyena into her armor, that he could do it blindfolded. He let each piece drop to the floor, chainmail clinking, metal plates slamming hard against the wood. Leather squeaked as it slid from buckles and peeled away from skin and undergarments.

She didn’t know how she ended up in the water. The natural spring that her grandmother and great aunt brought into Elunheim during its construction. A few hundred yards to the east you could find where the stream used to flow. Now the trees grew thickly around the old streambed. It’s iciness woke her just enough to scrub at her face and shoulders, the water turning pastel purple as it washed Draen’s blood away.

After minutes or hours or days, she pulled herself from the water when her fingers started pruning and wrapped herself in the towel that Jaleth had left her. She rang out her long hair before she twisted it and pinned it into place with her long wooden needles. Down the hall she padded, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floors to her rooms. When she went inside she found a clean outfit laid out. One of her favorites, a simple soft green linen blouse with a saber detail embroidered across her chest in a silvery brown. Lan had done that for her as a gift a few years before she was taken. It was one of Kyena’s better kept things. A pair of dark leaf brown pants completed her look. Jaleth must’ve laid it out for her. How kind of him.

Then Kyena had the prickling feeling at the back of her neck. One that she was sure many a prey animal had felt before they were ambushed.

She suddenly felt very very cold. Jai’alator was a whole wing away. She didn’t even have a dagger in this room. Ice locked her into place.

Ice and a foolhardy way of seeing Sheodraen again.

She whirled herself around, her silvery eyes hunting around for her intruder. 

“My my, more observant than Landrelia. Perhaps I should have taken you instead. A child born from you would have sense.”

Nilan. His very voice made her crawl. Her uncle. She’d only seen him once, when she was very young. He’d come to see his sister, more likely that he wanted to survey Elunheim. He had a hungry look in his eye when he wandered the halls with Ay’hrae at his side, though he looked genuinely happy to see his sister. Kyena still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was  _ deeply wrong  _ with Nilan. He harbored a darkness within him that had Kyena running for the woods while he was there.

“You’re a bastard, Nilan. Where are you keeping her?” Kyena’s face was a mask of fury, Nilan’s a clean slate. Not a muscle betrayed what he was thinking.

“I’ll get to that in a moment, little dragon. But for now, sit. There are things I wish to tell you.” He gestured to her small table, steaming cups of tea sitting across from each other. It looked like he’d already made himself at home in her rooms. She buried the thought of him watching her while she dressed deep within her brain, fighting her nausea as she sat herself across from him. 

She didn’t touch her tea, while he sipped from his delicately. She fought her anger. He should be hunched and ugly, covered in horns and scaly skin, cloven hooves for feet. The outside should match the inside better. He looked much more menacing like this, an evil with a pretty face. One that could smile so sweetly and talk so softly before it drove a knife between your ribs.

It disgusted her.

She watched him with thinly veiled contempt written all over her face. She fought images of his smug little face turning a frightening shade of pale purple under her hands as she wrung his pitiful neck. She pictured peeling the nails from their beds, stuffing them with salt. Using him for a training dummy. Practicing her punches on his face until every bone was a fine powder, whether it was her hands or his face.

“Its nice to see you again, Kyena.” He studied her, much like one would look at a new type of insect. “You look so very much like Ay’hrae. Such a beauty you’ve become. You and Landrelia.”

“Fuck off, bastard.” Kyena spat, grinding her teeth together.

She felt tendrils close around her throat, cutting off her air. She could only watch as he came closer, rising from his seat to lean his hands on both arms, his face inches from hers. “Is that a way to speak to your future king?”

Kyena fought a laugh, beckoning him closer to her. Her lips brushed his ear as she spoke. “Long live the king.” 

She brought her head forward, bone crunching into bone, knocking him back. His spells dissipated and she wrenched the leg of her chair free, bringing it down onto his head. 

But he was swifter than Kyena had thought a spell flinger to be. Tor’landa must’ve taught him a few things before she died. He tried to pluck the chair leg from her but she was just as strong as he, if not stronger. She brought her knee up into his gut, the air whooshing from his lungs.

And then she tackled him to the ground, just getting her fingers around his throat when a blinding flash had her reeling backwards. She hissed, sweeping her arms around, trying to connect with something.

When she regained her sight, she herself was tackled to the ground, Nilan’s slighter weight not enough to hold her down for long. She rolled them both over, both hissing profanities at each other.

Then Kyena remembered her needles in her hair. 

She leapt up slightly, Nilan staring up at her confused before she brought her knees down hard into his biceps, Nilan letting out a pained gasp. She reached up with one hand, the other over his lips, and ripped out the needles. 

Down they went, one into his shoulder the other into his hipbone. Straight through. The tops were almost all the way through with how viciously Kyena shoved them through.

“Mmf mmh hm mbk!” He screeched against her hand. She ripped out the one that was in his shoulder, gripping the tip and tugging it out, causing him to cry out again. Kyena could’ve listened to that sound for hours.

“You try anything,  _ anything,  _ and I’ll put this through your throat.” She growled, hiding her satisfaction at his whimper. Even if it was an act she still enjoyed seeing him in pain, crying out for her mercy.

She peeled away her hand and he sucked in air desperately. Kyena pressed the tip to the soft underside of his chin. “Speak.”

“I said, you can have him back. You can have Sheodraen-” She pressed it harder, drawing blood. “You can have him back if you stop your search!” He cried, trying to wiggle out of her grip. “I can give him back to you! I swear it!”

“Liar. Even if you do, it won’t be my Draen. Draen is dead and gone. It’s where he belongs now.” She drew the needle away a bit, Nilan letting out a sigh. “I’ll never stop until I find her, Nilan. I’ll never stop.”

“Even if you do find her, you plans will fail. She’ll end up dead. They’ll all die.” He ground out. “And it will be all your fault.”

And a few muttered words later, Nilan was gone, Kyena thumping onto the floor.

~~~~~~

Those words still haunted her.

_ And it will be all your fault. _

She could think of nothing else. Not even when Jaleth started to forge her back together. When they started getting closer to Lan’s holding place.

_ She’ll end up dead. They’ll all die. And it will be all your fault. _


	2. Failure

They were close. Oh so close to freeing Lan from Fanarol and her father.

Each day, Kyena slept less and less. It wasn’t like she had hardly any sleep anyways. She was always plagued with Nilan’s last words to her before he teleported himself out of there.

_She’ll end up dead. They’ll all die. And it will be all your fault._

Kyena knew that she couldn’t leave Lan to die in there. But if what Nilan said was true, she was going to die anyway.

“We’re going to go after her in a week’s time. We have to. She’s been gone nearly two thousand years and I don’t know how much longer they’re going to be playing nice.” Jaleth looked at Kyena softly while she spoke. He had a terrible habit of doing that in the company of others now every since Draen finally died.

She shook the thought from her head. The terrible terrible thought from her head. He was the father of her last child.

_You’re a terrible liar, Kyena._

_Stop lying to yourself. You know who fathered her._

_You’d always had your eyes on him, haven’t you?_

_Damned whore. Mate-stealer._

Myn’ra broke into her thoughts, dragging a finger to tap at the highly details notes written on the margins of the plans of the manor where Lan was being held. “Where did you even get this information from?”

Kyena blinked at Myn before she registered what had been said. “You’ve met Deliha, right?” She cleared her throat, hoping that the low burning candlelight hid her darkening face.

Myn gave her a questioning look as she tried to place the name to the face. “Deliha Moonsinger, Deliha?” One brow arched as she hunched over the scale drawing.

Kyena gave her a short nod, her eyes rapidly scanning the sketch of the manor.

“Kyena, how did you find the time to go asking around for information? I thought that for the time being you were going to leave this up to me.” Myn said softly, like she was a wounded animal that she was trying to coax from it’s hole.

Kyena tamped down the anger that rose from her. She knew better than to act on it. Instead, she let the anger bleed out of her, like Lan had advised her numerous times. Lan still stuck to what the Sisterhood had taught her about patience and kindness.

“I needed something to do. I was going mad sitting on my hands. My time for sadness is over.” Her eyes met Myn’s, burning with a tempered anger. “It is time for me to do my duty.”

Myn seemed to accept that answer, unfurrowing her brow and relaxing her shoulders. Kyena simply rolled her eyes and stared down at the sketch again. She had a mother. A mother that lived a week’s journey away with her father but a mother no less.

She tried to place where she had seen this building before. It was so familiar to her. She was sure she’d seen something like it before.

Then it struck her. It was hard to make it out, nearly like any other large Kaldorei dwelling had been constructed with stone and living wood, without the saber stables that had dominated so much of the area surrounding the house.

This was a recreation of Landrelia’s childhood home near Suramar.

This is where he kept her as a sick joke.

“We need to get there and now.” Kyena growled, scattering the papers that mapped out Landrelia’s prison.

~~~~~~

It took them three days to get to the furthest corner of the Hyjal-Winterspring border. The manor was tucked far out of sight in the valley of a mountain chain that was rarely traversed for its nearness to the bitter cold of the peaks of Winterspring. Too often the paths to the valley floor might have been untraversable and nobody wanted to be caught upon the peak of the mountains with limited supplies.

All in all, a perfect place to build and hide someone without having to worry about prying eyes.

The three of them sat watching the manor from a rise about a dozen yards away. Night covered them, summer seemed to still be settled in the valley but fall was fast approaching. So far, there were only a minimal amount of guards that they could see. Nothing that they couldn’t handle.

It appeared that Nilan wasn’t too concerned about someone coming to his abode.

_Well, we’re just going to have to fix that, aren’t we?_

“We go in an hour. We hit them hard and fast. Kill anyone who isn’t one of us.”

~~~~~~

Both Myn and Kyena made sure that they had plenty of arrows. They were going to take down the guards they could see from a safe distance before coming in closer with their blades. Jaleth was sharpening his broadswords, Kal’talah and Zin’serrar. He’d forged them not too long after Lan’s kidnapping, along with Myn’s blade Cortana. Cortana had been Laena’s blade before she went her own way after Lan’s kidnapping but she had since given the blade to her aunt.

Cortana blazed like the ancestral blades of Kyena and Lan’s families even though it was never blessed like Jai’alator and Ellemayne. They figured that being near Jai was enough to charge the blade. But neither Kal’talah nor Zin’serrar developed any other qualities like those blessed blades, aside from a brighter luster.

After they made sure their blades were sharp and bows ready, they turned to their armor. Simple leather breastplates over chainmail hauberks. Soft linen shirts and pants went underneath, tucked into high leather boots, whisper quiet in the dark from their soft soles. Both Kyena and Myn had leather gauntlets the covered their arms from their wrists to nearly their elbows. Jaleth’s was plate covered leather.

When they were finally ready, Myn and Kyena took their positions on opposite sides of the house, firing on the guards that crossed their path. There was perhaps only half a dozen patrolling the outer perimeter of the manor, including the ones that wandered through the gardens.

Building in a valley was a blessing and a curse. Protection from the mountains but you leave yourself vulnerable to those who exploit the heights.

When they all laid on the grounds in the pools of their blood they moved in.

It was eerily quiet on the outside. No guard had raised an alarm when they saw another fall to their death other than to glance around at the surrounding hills.

That changed dramatically once they were inside.

A servant girl let out a shrill cry, dropping a bowl of steaming soup on the plush rugs that lined the floors. She spun and tried to run off somewhere, probably to get help but was met with the angry glare of Myn. She ran square into the woman. Out flashed Cortana and cleaved the screaming head from the girl’s neck.

Then a great clamor broke out.

Servants flooded into the room. Well, what appeared to be servants. Each and every one of the dozens of servants was armed to the teeth, blank expressions on their faces. They came at them fast, like they had been trained their whole lives for this one task. Perhaps they had.

Kyena and Myn fought hard against the seemingly endless pile of bodies that threw themselves at them. She didn’t hardly lose her focus for fear of her life, making sure that as she dispatched servant after servant she got herself closer to Myn. She couldn’t live if she had her killed.

_They’ll all die and it’ll be all your fault._

“No!” She screamed, long and unbroken. She didn’t know how long until she was panting, her arms aching from swinging and thrusting and parrying the blows with Jai. Myn was similarly out of breath. Jaleth looked over his little sister and tried to catch Kyena before she started down the stairs to the basement of the manor.

And she saw another man standing over Lan.

_Lanny._

Goddess she looked awful. Black circles sat under her eyes. The changing color of blue bruises circled around that. Her face was thin, hollowed out. Her eyes were dim in the darkness that covered the basement rooms. It was like another house down here.

Lan shook under his gaze, not seeing Kyena yet as she stood at the middle of the stairs and knelt to assess the situation. She looked so small down there. An angel in the dark.

“BANDU THORIBAS!” She roared as she charged down the stairs two at a time, bringing the hilt of Jai into the strange man’s face. His nose crunched with a satisfying sound and he dropped instantly.

She stepped lightly over the man’s body, holding out her hand to haul Lan to her feet. “Come on, Princess, it’s time to go.” She felt painfully light when she finally got to her feet.

_She used to look so healthy and strong, now she looked like they barely fed her._

“Kyena, I have the actual servants locked away!” Myn called down the stairs.

“Alright!” She shouted up the stairs, her eyes not leaving her sister’s. Kyena moved to support her thin frame, draping her arm around her shoulders, her other arm wrapped around her waist. “Come, someone wants to see you again.”

“Jaleth?” She croaked. She looked as if she were drunk. Dazed, with a fog covering her eyes. How Lan looked up at Kyena like she was Elune herself.

“Yes, Lan, Jaleth is here-” She had just started to ascend the stairs when Lan let out a cry and ripped herself from Kyena’s grip. It took he a moment to realize that Lan wasn’t as weak as she appeared. She still had that fight in her that stayed just below the surface.

“Taylande! We have to take Taylande!” She cried as she crawled her way over to a newborn’s bassinet.

_No wonder she looks so weak. She’s probably just given birth._

She guarded Lan as she wrapped a blanket around her, securing her new daughter to her chest. The girl let out a soft coo, her eyes slitting open the barest bit, showing off her amber eyes to Kyena as she stepped closer to see her niece. Lan covered her face all too quickly for Kyena’s liking, leaving her daughter cocooned safely but Kyena saddened.

“I can walk myself out of here, Kyena.” Lan stood up straight, her arm cradled around her infant’s body protectively. Kyena simply nodded and led the way up the stairs.

She didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind her as they both ascended, Lan keeping her free hand on Kyena’s back. She merely thought it was Lan.

They finally exited without much more excitement, Kyena leading the way through the courtyard to where Jaleth was.

“Kyena! I’ve got one of them.” He swept his eyes from Kyena to Lan, his small smile falling. He beheld his once beautiful mate reduced to near nothingness, a child tied around her chest, bruises and cuts on her face and shoulders.

He held Fanarol at the point of Kal’talah, Zin’serrar was ready to fall from the loose grip of his left hand.

“Shari! Dalah’shari!” Lan cried, her eyes never meeting Jaleth’s.

Instead they were on Fanarol.

Kyena held her back as Jaleth found his words again. “What am I doing with him?”

She eyed Lan as she spoke. “Leave him. He’ll die with the others.” She stalked over to him, sure that Lan wasn’t going anywhere. “Hail and farewell, Fanarol Silverblade.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You’ve got this all wrong!” He cried as Kyena brought the hilt of Jai down again. Surprisingly it took only one hit to bring him down.

Lan let out a gasp behind her. “Kyena, we have to take him with us!” She breathed, nearly hyperventilating with fear and concern.

Kyena could barely cover her shock. “Are you insane?”

“He didn’t have anything to do with it! He was a prisoner like I was!”

But Kyena didn’t want to hear it, so she wheeled around, motioning for Jaleth to start moving and snatched up Lan’s hand, leading her away from Fan’s limp body.

And she stopped short, Lan nearly colliding with her.

He stood there, the last of the Starheart line, and he had no idea that he was.

_One heartbeat._

“Rynath?” She whispered at first, swallowing against her dry mouth before she tried to speak again. “Rynath?” Numbly she felt a tear fall from her eye. She could feel herself shaking in Lan’s grip

_Thump thump._

He looked terrified. Like he thought that she’d strike him with Jai’alator. He held his sword loosely, nearly about to fall to the ground from his shock, face pale, brows knitted together. His mouth fell open when he saw his mother again. Pain and sorrow and regret flashed across his face all within milliseconds of each other.

Kyena took a step forward, letting go of Lan’s arm, to go comfort her son.

“Rynath?!” Myn’ra roared, Cortana in her hands. It was a broken hearted sound that the girl made. The little baby that she had saved and carried for weeks after his mother’s death, the deaths of nearly all her family, was standing in front of her. The boy who had his nose stuck in a book, more than likely one about the wars that they fought or warfare in general. The boy who followed her elder brother around like a second shadow. The man who died to protect his family.

The man who never died.

Revenant.

Betrayer.

“Myn’ra please.” Kyena choked, numb to move an inch.

If he was afraid that Kyena would kill him, then he had to be terrified of Myn.

Cortana blazed with Myn’s anger. Her confusion.

_I am Cortana, Tempered with Elune’s Fire. Of the same star as Jai’alator and Ellemayne._

The inscription stood out starkly in the night, the blade giving off enough light to see the most minute detail.

“Mynie, listen to me-”

“You should be dead.” Her voice crackled with ice. Nath held his hands up, his sword still hanging from his belt.

_Thump thump._

He had no intention of fighting anybody this night.

He pleaded with his eyes for Myn to stop.

“I nearly died for you!” She cried as she swung Cortana towards Rynath’s head.

The resonant clang of metal on metal stopped the blade short. Quick as a fox, Nath pulled his own broadsword from his belt and caught Myn’s halfhearted blow. “He had her, Myn! What else could I have done? I didn’t want any of this!”

Her teeth were clenched tight together, anger creasing her face. “Liar.” She hissed.

Rynath whipped both blades around, their crossguards locked together, throwing them both into the dirt. He let out a grunt as Myn rushed him, staying low enough to hit center mass and send him sprawling to the ground.

Myn ended up sitting on his arms, effectively holding him down even if he did have height and weight advantage to Myn’s leanness.

“Look at me.” She ground out, her voice muffled against the light mask that she wore to cover her scars. “LOOK AT MY FACE!” She shrieked as she tore it off. The scar wasn’t as bad as it had been at first. It was fading but it would still be visible for the rest of Myn’s life. A long slice came in a nearly straight line from the top of her ear to the corner of her mouth, another slice coming from her forehead down, parallel to her nose where it met the former at the same corner. Smaller scars lined her temple and brow, but those would completely heal.

Other scars never would.

“I nearly died for you!” She roared, tears leaking from her eyes, splashing down onto Nath’s. A couple rolled from his eyes as he laid there, letting her scream out her anger. Myn pitched forward, resting her forehead against his chest, chest heaving. She turned slightly, letting her ear come to rest to listen to his heartbeat thrum in his chest.

Kyena knew that she had done the same thing to his lifeless body all those years ago because the blood had no way of getting to the left side of her face from her injury on the right.

She turned because she heard a sudden cry behind her and someone hitting the dirt.

She turned just in time to watch the man from the basement make off with Taylande into the woods, Landrelia a couple feet behind him.

“Lan.” She whispered at first, ignoring the sinking feeling that she felt. “Lan! Lan, stop!” Kyena took off after her stupid sister, Myn and Nath not too  far behind her. When she finally made it to the end of the tracks, she found nothing but blood.

Purple blood and Lan’s robes, torn and shredded.

A note was laid delicately over the robe, immaculate spidery handwriting spelled out a simple sentence, one that brought Kyena to her knees.

_I told you so._


	3. Reforged

She told herself to let him go. To tell him that they needed to put an end to all of this. That their...relationship needed to stop before somebody else was killed. But he was her anchor, her calm sea, her hard reminder that she had obligations.

Jaleth Seawhisper told her that she needed to pull herself out of the hole that Landrelia’s death had thrown her in. For the sakes of her children.

Slowly she started to reawaken, reforged by Jaleth’s patience. By his insistence that she could live on in the wake of Lan’s death. That it was alright that she had fallen apart. He’d sit and talk with her, even if she didn’t do much to keep up the conversation. He’d tell her that Kalen was exploring more and more, testing the boundaries of the gardens that him and Draennah usually were allowed to wander.

The poor little girl was usually a foot behind him like Lan used to follow Kyena. Deep within her, she prayed that she didn’t impart too much of herself on the boy. He grew so kind. He was obviously Lan’s son.

But Kyena was not the only broken one.

She heard Jaleth crying out for Lan in his sleep. For Laena to come back. For his brothers. She was the one that came to him, that woke him from his nightmares and told him that it’d be alright. Especially after Lan died.

She tried to ignore how closely he’d lay to her now. How he pulled her to him and breathed in her scent when she awoke him from his dreams. How Draennah acted like he was the only father she’d ever known. Her real father.

Not that he minded. He loved being a father. When Laena was born he would’ve stolen the stars for the girl. Anything she wanted, he got for her. Then Kalen was born and he had his son to teach everything. His little world was complete and whole all those years ago. Then he had Draennah, another little girl to spoil.

~~~~~~

 

“Kyena.” He whispered to her. Slowly her eyes reopened and she took in the growing moonlight. Moonbeams filtered their way in through the gauzy curtains, blown by the gentle breeze that came from the mountains so far away. 

“I’m awake.” She said equally as softly. The songbirds had just started to wake up for the night. He brushed his fingers through her loose hair. Smiled down at her before he captured her lips with his.

“Are we wrong?” She asked suddenly, her eyes fully opened now. “Are we wrong to keep this up?” Kyena pushed herself upright, leaning against the carved headboard with designs of dragons. Kyena made it herself. Every once in a while she thought about Nyreenastrasza. She hoped she still lived wherever she may be. Subconsciously she rubbed the spot on her right hand, one that she and her mother shared, where the skin on her palm looked nearly like dragonscale. She had an identical spot just above her heart on her shoulder. 

Jaleth was quiet for a long time. He took a deep breath, meeting her eyes again before he closed them to put their foreheads together, noses barely touching. “I believe not, my Lady Stormbow.” He said in a posh Highborne accent from so long ago, one that he knew would make Kyena laugh and push him away. A smirk graced his lips and he let out a sigh as he beheld Kyena's smiling face.

Then he grew serious as he sighed, taking her hand in his. “Truly, Dragon, I think we're doing the right thing.” 

“Children need their parents together, not divided.” Kyena met his eyes once more, pursing her lips slightly. 

She flicked them away. She knew where the conversation would steer next and she wanted no part. Quickly she rolled out of bed, pulling her discarded dressing robe from the floor and throwing it about herself, tying it shut. Jaleth didn’t gape after her, nor did he sneer angrily at her, merely let her go off on her way.

It was the only expensive thing she owned. Silken, a last vestige leftover from the Highborne, she bought at a market in Hyjal. She swept her hair into a loose bun, not having the time to sit and brush the knots out of it, shoving her hairpin through it to hold the strands in place. Nevermind that it was originally her grandmother's hairpin with a design of a dragon carved into the wood. Kyena was sure that Tor’landa wouldn’t mind her using it.

She didn't bother to put anything on her feet as she made her way to the kitchens to start the fires. Over cold stone and wood she padded to the kitchen.

She heard a noise from the larder, her attention flicking directly to it. She’d had her share of visitors stealing quietly through her home. If it was Nilan, he would make it two steps before she gutted him and strung him up with his intestines. Quietly she reached into a potted plant, drawing out the small dagger from the foliage, dusting off some dirt that managed to get inside the scabbard. 

She padded up behind whomever was stealing from her larder, her dagger held against her arm, and let out a sigh. “Kalendris Moonblade! What are you doing awake so early?”

The young boy let out a squeak and dropped a plateful of fruits. His bread went flying, along with the small crock of berry preserves that Lan had shown her how to make a forever ago. “I was hungry, Min’da. I didn’t mean to...” Kalen blurted.

Kyena let out a laugh and just shook her head. “By the Moon, Kalen, you scared me half to death.” She hissed, fear rising in her chest. She nearly  _ gutted  _ Kalen, the huntress realized with a gasp as she let her head fall into her hands. “Kalendris…”

“I know mom, sometimes I forget you can kill.” He said quietly. “Sometimes you’re just my mom, not a soldier. I forget.” His expression was a little pained, swiftly replaced by concern.

_ No my sweet boy, your mother is no soldier. Your mother is sweet and kind and  _ **_good_ ** _. She’d never make you feel afraid. _

Such gently spoke words by a boy who was not her son. Words that quickly brought a tear to her eyes. She offered a weak smile and plunged to the floor to clean up the mess. Kalendris quickly knelt to help her, sweeping up the bigger pieces of the shattered plate into his hands while she took the smaller ones, ignoring the fact that they cut up her already scarred hands. Scarred and calloused from using a sword and her bow. From taking blows that aimed to disarm. Scars made up her body. It made up every soldier’s body, especially when they were as old as Kyena and Jaleth. Even Myn’s body was scarred, scarred too early during that first great war. Fanarol had only added to it. 

Nobody was without their scars, whether it was physical or mental.

Kalen’s hand covered hers suddenly. He gently brushed the small chips from Kyena’s hands into a wooden bowl he’d found and wiped up the small dots of blood that had appeared on her fingers with the corner of his sleeve. “You’ve told me time and time again, mother, not to pick up the little pieces with your hands.” He chastised her much like she would have done to him.

He patted her cheek gently as he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get breakfast started.” He said with a smile pulling his lips back from his teeth. Cute as a button, with Lan’s warm smile and her vulnerable eyes. He was definitely Landrelia’s son. He kept his smile as he wrapped up Kyena’s fingers and started their breakfast.

The smells of cooking pulled Jaleth and Drae from their rooms and soon enough they were gathered around the table munching contentedly on their bread when a knock came at Elunheim’s great door. 

Kyena glanced over to Jaleth with a questioning expression. He shook his head and shrugged. It couldn’t be Myn or Nar since they were busy in Winterspring together trying to track down Nar’s cousin and her uncle. Kyena got up, motioning with her hand for the others to stay where they were, and strode over to the door, opening it just a crack to reveal a hooded figure standing before the door.

“Lady Moonblade, I have news.” The figure said quickly so she wouldn’t shut the door in their face.

Kyena narrowed her eyes as her hands flexed in their wrappings. “What news?”

“News of Landrelia.” The stranger bowed their head, hood never leaving their head. It obscured most of their features, which made Kyena hesitant to listen to whomever they were in the first place, but few people knew of Landrelia’s abduction, meaning that even less people would know where to find her. Anyone who had some information on her would be invaluable. “More importantly, her daughter. Taylande. I know where to find her.”

Kyena narrowed her eyes at the stranger and moved out of the way so they could come inside. “Tell me what you know.” She prodded as the great door of Elunheim swung closed behind them.

 


	4. Finding Taylande

Henasi stood complacently as Kyena made sure that the saddle was fitted properly with the girth. The younger saber was quite rotund, larger than even Kyena’s first wild saber, Illiorn. What a lucky break she caught when she could add his blood into the mix from Zaea’s offspring. Swift, hardy, dangerous. They made even Kyena feel a tremor of fear when the cubs grew into adults. They had all but lost their gray coloration from their grandmother generations ago. Instead they were smoke black darker stripes that shone in certain lights.

Elunheim was bathed in starlight, a shining beacon to whomever saw the ancestral home of the Moonblades. Kyena gazed up at the room where Kalendris stayed, his shadow dancing back and forth in front of the window as he paced the room. She could see Drae’s shadow in the room as well, ever the kind one. The one to lean against when you felt weak. Kalen had no better little sister.

Kyena touched a hand to the beginnings of a swell and gave it a pat, listening to Kalen’s cracking voice and Drae’s sweet tones drifting through the open window as they argued about whether or not Kalen should come with.

“He’s going to want to come with whether you want him to or not, you know that.” Jaleth murmured as he wrapped his arms around Kyena's shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

She tucked herself under his chin, her own arms around his waist. “I know, Machaera. But Rynath wanted to fight too and he was too young. Kalen's his age now, that he was when…”

“Kalen's not going to have to do what Rynath did.”

She pulled herself away slightly so she could see his expression. Tiredness had started to settle on his skin now. Both were nearly twelve thousand years old, a life lived in battle and blood.  Tears. Anguish. All under the shadow of a man. Such pain and suffering on this family.

“Do you hate Nath for what he did, Jaleth?”

“No Dracon. I'm just...disappointed. He should have come to us. Then Vaene wouldn't have been in trouble and Myn wouldn't have that  _ scar. _ ” He ground his teeth together, jaw clenched as he grabbed a fistful of the scruff around Henasi’s shoulder. “I’m just tired of seeing everyone drowning when all they need to do is stand up.” He met her eyes briefly. Such hurt showed in them that she had to turn her head away as she threw herself up into the saddle. 

“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.” She said, giving Henasi a soft kick to send her on her way.

~~~~~~

In a few days she’d be in the Nightsong Woods of the northernmost forests of Ashenvale. Henasi made good time, getting there within the week.

Now she stood outside of the clearing where Taylande’s prison was. The girl was already like her poor mother. Watching. Waiting. Seeing Fanarol fucking Silverblade beat that girl like she was garbage. 

_ So much for being innocent, Fanarol.  _ She thought as she narrowed her eyes at the scene in front of her. He was trying and failing to give the girl her markings. Bear’s claws, from what she could see from up in the highest branches of the tree. She was as much a part of the foliage as she was elf from this place. Besides, Fanarol did not think that someone would be here. He still thought he was safe.

The girl held back her screams, though Kyena could see plain as day that she wanted to. Taylande was much too young to be getting her marks. Kyena would have saved them until she was practically begging her to do them. That’s how she would know that Tay was ready. They’d be a beautiful sight, much like Landrelia’s. Full of swirls and lines and dozens of other things. Whatever Tay wanted. 

She certainly wouldn’t tattoo her eyelids, not to nearly blind her so she couldn’t fight back.

When he carried her outside and threw her against a tree, Kyena nearly sent an arrow through his throat. She should have. But instead she watched and waited. She heard him tell her to train and go back inside.

She dropped down a couple of branches, pulling Zin’rhok across her body so that it would be out of the way, then pulled out a piece of paper from her bag she’d left in the tree, along with much of Henasi’s tack and other things that they needed for the journey. She was glad she thought of paper to send letters back.

_ I am watching, Fanarol. I am here. _

She dropped her eyes to Tay, who seemed to sense there were eyes on her. She glanced all about, her swollen eyes trying to see whomever it was that was watching over her.

“H-hello?” The girl called out, searching with eyes that could not see. “Is anyone out there?”

Fanarol quickly came back outside and wrung the girl’s neck until she nearly passed out. Anger ground Kyena’s teeth together as she wrote her notes, letting her anger fuel her words.

The message was half scrawled. She took it, wrapping it around the shaft of the arrow and securing it with a bit of tree sap, she took aim at the middle of the door. On his way back inside after nearly choking the life from Tay, he stopped at the door, pausing to rip the arrow free from the center of it. He read her scrawled message slowly to himself. Then he laughed and broke the arrow in half, throwing each aside before he barred himself in the house.

He left Tay to freeze outside. 

_ Well, we can’t have that, now can we Taylande?  _ She thought as she pulled the cloak from her back. The one that gave her near perfect coverage in the trees. The silvery gray green that match the current foliage was wadded up in Kyena’s hands as she descended from the tree where Tay lay. 

For good measure, she dropped on the opposite side and circled around, her light footfalls hardly stirring the girl, for she was already fast asleep. Gently she draped her cloak over the girl’s battered body, tucking it under her feet so the chill wouldn’t seep in. She brushed back the hair from her eyes, much the same as Lan’s used to do. Always a curl in her eyes.

“I will come back, Taylande. I swear it.” She whispered, so low that even she could barely hear it. “Give me a few more months to make some arrangements and I’ll be back, dorei. Be brave, k’laen shari.”

~~~~~~

She was back. She had fought and raged and plotted, but now she was back. Arrangements made and solidified. Myn would be waiting for Tay in Winterspring so that she could heal from her ordeals. If she wanted when she was old enough, she could go to the temple there and study. The only condition that Myn had set was that Tay be informed of what had happened to her mother. Everything. From the first Moonblades to the current ones. 

Kyena promised everything. She would do whatever it took to get her out of harms way. Hells, she’d take Tay in herself and train her the right way. To challenge instead of submit.

When she came to the clearing, Taylande was proving that just because the lion seems tame, does not mean it has no claws.

Meat and gristle hung in strips from the left half of his face. In places, white bone shone in the moonlight. The eyelid was gone, carved off long ago when she had first started working on the eye.

His screams. Oh, his screams were like music to Kyena’s ears. 

_ Now jam it through the socket Taylande. It’ll kill him. _

But she did not listen. Instead she took the eye she had peeled from the socket and squished it under her boot and let him get away.

He went back inside and grabbed his tools. A branding iron. Rocks. Silverblade. Coward’s tools. She’d have to melt down Silverblade and pour it down his throat.

She watched him harm her for as long as she could before she pulled back Zin’rhok and fired at the back of his neck. But he turned at the last minute and caught it in the shoulder instead, dropping Taylande to the forest floor. Kyena came sprinting from her hiding spot, Zin’rhok at the ready.

“I never thought you’d visit.” Fanarol lisped, the ruined side of his face covered. Kyena stood in front of Taylande, her bow at the ready even after being shot half a second ago. He ripped the arrow from his shoulder, throwing it aside, his hands flexing around Silverblade. “After all, your sister never did, the whore…”

Then his eyes widened. He had inspected Kyena’s armor, a leather chest piece, not her more protective mail. She had hoped he wouldn’t see the swell of her rather large stomach underneath. How she hoped that this battle would be in her favor. She couldn’t lose Jaleth’s child. He’d been the one to help her pick up her broken pieces and forge them together.

“I never thought I’d have to save her from an abusive father.” She chanced a glance at Tay, who had fallen to the floor after he nearly carved her face off. The small girl was slipping in and out of consciousness, but otherwise safe for now. “Oh, Landrelia railed on for you, Fanarol. ‘Dalah’shari’ she called you. Did you make her call you that when you raped her?”

Fanarol let out a snarl and charged, Kyena loosing the arrow at his thigh, the arrow skimming it enough to slow him while she drew out Jai’alator. The clash of blade on blade had brought Tay back around and she watched them with mild interest. How similar she looked to both Lan and Fanarol sent a spike through Kyena’s heart. 

The two circled each other like lions fighting over a kill.

“You know, if you want to train somebody you don’t have to beat them every five seconds. Or does that make you feel more like a man? Harming a child that can’t fight back?” She blocked another blow, locking Silverblade with Jai’alator’s hilt and spinning the blade away from him. Disarmed, he looked around wildly. Silverblade was too far away for him to get before Kyena ran him through. Instead he took the coward’s way.

He ran off into the woods, going Elune knows where while Kyena gathered up Zin’rhok.  She found Tay looking up at her, her eyes cloudy with weariness. “Don’t try to get up, k’laen dorei. Just stay there. Kyena’s got you. Don’t worry, I’ve always got you.” She said as she gathered up Tay, carrying her off to Henasi in her clearing.

She’d find him later, she vowed. It helped warm the iciness that had settled itself into her heart when he took off.  _ His day is coming, Kyena. Do not fear.  _ That voice whispered to her again. Familiar. Melodic. Harsh. It sounded nearly like her mother...and yet...not. But this voice gave her comfort at times when she needed it the most. The strength that she could keep fighting.

When she came to Henasi, she saw to Tay’s hurts, sucking in air when she saw the years old branding scar in the shape of a blade on her shoulders. Those she took care of first, rubbing a balm over the charred skin, brushing off what she could. Kyena was no healer, though she did know a little. She bandaged her cuts and soothed her bruises and let her sleep for the next day.

After a couple more hours of sleep, Kyena shook her gently to get her awake. She jerked herself upright. Or tried to, Kyena could keep her down with barely any pressure on her. The huntress eased the girl upright so she could sit on her makeshift bed. “Easy there, Princess. Don’t need you passing out or dying on me here.” She gave the girl a soft smile and a wink, joining in on the girl’s laugh when she burst into laughter at Kyena’s words.

_ She laughs like her mother. With the crinkles around her eyes and her nose.  _

She ignored the pain in her heart and crouched next to the girl’s bed. “You sleep like your mother, child.” Again, as smile graced Kyena’s lips. “You look like her too.” She said hoarsely.

The girl looked a bit shocked because all she did was stare up at her stupidly and blink. Kyena sighed and cocked her head, starting from square one. “My name’s Kyena Stormbow, Princess. Or Moonblade, whichever works.”

After another moment, Taylande cleared her throat and remembered her manners. “A pleasure, Milady Stormbow.” She bowed her head to the huntress and introduced herself as Taylande Silverblade. Oh how Kyena wanted to tell her that she was no Silverblade. She was a Moonblade. But she refrained. “So you knew Val’riin?”

Kyena arched a brow. “Princess I have no clue who that is. I’ve never heard of a Val’riin.” She turned to her pack and pulled out her map to check where they were one last time before they broke camp and went to Lahk’heim.

“I want to go to the temple, Lady Stormbow. I want to help people.” She said eagerly.

Kyena gasped and scrunched the map in her hands. Then she let out a sigh and relaxed. “It’ll be a day or two.” She chewed on her lip. “I’ll be escorting you there.” She turned to Tay, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. “And call me Kyena.”

She nodded vigorously and let a smile creep onto her already tired looking face. Tay was too young for any of that to happen to her. She should be happy and free running around Elunheim. A home she may never know. With her cousin. Her brother. Azshulaena if she ever came back. She touched a hand to the bandages around her head. “How long was I out, Kyena?” She asked as she bit into the rabbit she’d hunted while Tay was asleep. A low moan came from the girl at the taste.

A chuckle escaped Kyena. “A day. We’ll be off soon.”

~~~~~~

She left Taylande at the temple and made her way back home.

As she fell into Henasi’s strides she felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes. Slowly, then all at once, Kyena cried. She cried loud and brokenly, her gasping sobs echoing throughout the quiet forest. She cried until her eyes burned and then she cried more.

It had been a mistake. She should have brought Taylande to her little sister. She should have taken her when she first came to the clearing all those months ago. She should have. She should have.

She leaned against Henasi’s neck and sobbed more, her arms around the saber’s throat. Henasi purred softly to comfort her companion but nothing could console Kyena until she had let out the emotions she had bottled for so long. 

It was nearly like seeing a young Landrelia, so eager and ready when she first came to the temple. So much like Taylande, who had both escaped abusive fathers. One that made them twitchy to any sudden movement. Aware to any change in tone and body language. These fathers had bred girls who feared their own shadows. Who couldn’t speak for themselves. 

But these girls would flourish later. Landrelia did. Taylande would.

So Kyena settled herself further into Henasi’s strides and kicked her up further so they could get to Elunheim faster.

~~~~~~

Kyena threw Henasi’s saddle on the rack in the tackroom, covering it with a piece of linen to protect it from dust. The blankets were folded and stored away for the next time. Jai’alator and Zin’rhok sat on their own racks in the weapons room.

She let out a sigh a glanced at the carvings in the walls of the tackroom. Ones that Tor and Reli had made. It detailed both of their sabers, K’laen Elun and Thor, and the story of how they were blessed by Elune much like their blades. She brushed a finger over the old runes that denoted their names and how long the sabers lived. Landrelia’s Durza was related to Tor’s saber Thor and Zaea was a descendant of K’laen Elun.

“How is Taylande, Dracon?” Jaleth asked as he let himself into the tackroom. 

“She’s...alright.” She replied, not turning to meet his questioning eyes.

He let out a soft sigh and ran his hands through his long hair. Usually he kept it fairly short but he’d been letting it grow. Now it was down to his shoulders. He stepped quietly over to Kyena and wrapped his arms around her, hands flat on her belly. “What did he do to her, shari?”

Kyena shook her head and leaned back against Jaleth. “She’s Landrelia’s daughter, Jaleth. Tragedy is in their blood.” She felt him close his eyes and pillow his head into the crook of her neck for a moment before he pressed a kiss there.

She pulled herself out of the circle of his arms, plopping herself into a chair. It’s not like she could do much else, her child was nearly here already.

“I’m just...Jaleth, I don’t know what to do anymore. I am lost no matter where I look.” She bowed her head to her chest, fingers brushing through the mats in her hair. “He got away from me. I should have killed him three thousand times over when I had the chance but I didn’t. Why am I such a coward? I don’t know who I am anymore. The old me would have done it no questions asked and taken Taylande far away from there. Who am I? Who am I?”

Jaleth took this in for a moment, glancing down at the ground. Then he tapped her on the chest with an open fist. Not hard enough to hurt, especially through her thick winter shirt, but enough to make her look at him questioningly. “Who  _ are  _ you?” He snarled, his eyes afire.

Kyena blinked up at him, her head cocked to the side. “I am Kyena.” She said with a confused tone.

“Who  _ are you _ ?” He asked more insistently.

“I am Kyena Moonblade.” She answered, louder. A smile gracing her lips finally.

Again, he touched the spot directly over her heart with his open fist. “Who. Are. You?” 

“I am Kyena A’laena Moonblade!” She roared to the heavens. “I am Ay’hrae Moonblade’s second born daughter! I am Fa’lore Dracon!” She turned to Jaleth, her heart lighter. “And the dragon does not fear. The dragon does not stop.”

“Then you find him, Fa’lore Dracon, and you make him fear the wrath of the dragon.”


	5. Protection

**_Sometime before Draen’s death.._ ** _._

“I know that she’s not mine.” Draen said suddenly, his cup halfway between the table and his lips. A fourth glass of old Highborne wine that Tor’landa had purchased and placed in the wine cellar thousands of years ago. Apparently it was still good enough to consume.

“What?” Kyena said, her voice smooth as she feigned surprise. Jaleth’s eyes went to her immediately.

“Yenas. She is not mine.” He growled as he downed the contents of the glass.

Kyena merely held her tongue and had a fleeting thought of a life where she never met Sheodraen Starheart.

“What would make you say such a thing, Brother Draen?” Myn hissed.

Myn’ra knew the truth. But Myn’ra also knew the truth of Sheodraen and his growing anger.

“All my children have died because of her and this one has not.” He shot back, slamming his glass down hard enough to crack the thick glass that had withstood thousands of years of use.

Jaleth shoved his chair backwards hard enough to send it clattering to the ground, making everyone jump, aside from the well and drunk Draen. “Shut your mouth and be glad she even let you into her bed, _Draen._ ”

“Like she let you in?” His clouded eyes slid over to meet Jaleth’s.

~~~~~~

Kyena shook away her thoughts of Draen as she trudged through the snowy path to the foothills that housed Myn’s lodge in the mountains. The child laid nestled against her chest, cold winds of Winterspring enough for her heaviest cloak.

This child, Draennah's full blooded sister, could not stay with them. The urge to protect came full force with her newest daughter. Hair a strange mix of dark blue like ocean depths and the purple that marked Kyena's kin, Jaleth's silvered eyes.

And a pain that came with this new child was more than she could bear.

She could not bear the thought of sending another one of the Moonblades to die at Nilan’s hands. To suffer at the hands of any more Silverblades. She already feared for the lives of Kalendris and Draennah. She prayed, which she didn’t do much of anymore, that Laena was alright wherever she was.

Kyena could not hunt down every last person responsible for Lan’s death while she worried about another child. Kalendris was old enough to fight back, as was Draennah. They had already started training a few months ago, simple moves to defend and disarm drilled into them until they could do it in their sleep.

The snow didn’t fall today. Which meant that the path to the lodge wasn't obscured, nor was the lodge itself.

It wasn’t much bigger than the average dwelling. One large room with a loft above where Myn kept her bed. All the furniture inside was handmade by the three of them, as was the structure itself. Building in several feet of snow was not preferable but Jaleth, Kyena and Myn got it done as quick as they could. It was cozy, small but fit for a person or two to live comfortably.

She held her daughter tighter to her chest as she crunched through the hardened snow. Why Myn’ra decided to move all the way to the coldest parts of Kalimdor, Kyena did not know. All Kyena knew was that Myn couldn’t stay in Elunheim anymore.

She came to the door, snarling wolves decorating the surface of the wood. “How quaint, Myn.” She muttered under her breath as she checked on her daughter one last time and banged on the door with her heel. She shushed the baby’s whimpering as the door creaked open behind her, Myn hissing at her to get inside before she let all the heat out.

Myn helped Kyena with her cloak and pointed her to a chair by the fire she had built. Already a spot was made so that they could set down the baby next to the fire if they needed to. A little box stuffed to the brim with old pieces of cloth and blankets. After the flurry of making some food and a warm drink and some small talk, Myn plopped herself down in the chair opposite Kyena. The sentinel looked at Kyena expectantly for a moment before she rolled her eyes. “Well, is she or he going to be a mystery until you leave or what?” Myn joked as she held out her arms for the baby.

Kyena shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. She eased the baby out of the sling she had wrapped around her chest and handed her over to Myn. 

“You need to keep her, shan’do.” Myn insisted as she gazed at her niece with love in her eyes.

“I would if I could, Myn. This is the safest place for her.”

“She should be with her sister. With her brother. Not me.” Myn’s expression was a mask of sadness. Doubtless she was thinking that the girl deserved something better to look at than her aunt’s scarred face. “Are you so certain that Fanarol will not report your pregnancy to Nilan?”

“What he’s done to her...Nilan would never let happen.” Kyena’s eyes betrayed not a thought less than that. Taylande was...something to him. Something very important. She still hadn’t guessed her niece’s importance to his plan perhaps to make more Moonblades for him to torture. “Nilan would have flayed him alive if he touched a hair on her head. I think that he’d stolen her somehow after the manor. There is no way that Nilan wouldn’t be nearby with Taylande somewhere.”

“Perhaps he doesn't know she survived.” 

Kyena inhaled deeply and plopped down in the chair across from Myn, letting her breath go as she did so. “Perhaps.” She rubbed a hand across her face. “I should have held her. Carried her. She would never have been taken.”

Myn grabbed up Kyena's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Sister you did not know. But you found her and you saved her.”

Kyena let a bittersweet smile cross her lips as she struggled to say the words she wanted from her tight throat. “I should have found her sooner, Myn.” She choked out, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks. “She lived there for so long, with  _ him _ beating her.” She shook her head, letting it fall into her free hand.

“You did not know.”

Kyena shook her head. “I knew that something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut when he ran off with her when we…”

“Kyena, I’m not so sure that was Fanarol-”

“Then who was it, Myn? Did he not do that to your face? Did he not steal Landrelia from her home and her children? DId he not kill her?” She looked at her incredulously. “Was it all a lie?”

“The man who cut my face looked like Fanarol but he was not.” Myn shouted at Kyena, who had tried to wave her words away. “Fanarol Silverblade had an older brother, Kyena! Look it up in any archive!”

“What are you saying, Myn, that he stole his face and used it to raise Taylande?” The huntress shook her head as she let out a booming laugh. “That makes no sense. What could he possibly have to gain from all of this?”

“Lithmyr Silverblade was  _ there  _ Kyena. I heard Nilan say it.” She hissed. “Kyena, take a break from this goose chase because your mother told you to hate Fanarol Silverblade. Take in the bigger picture-”

“I  _ am.” _

“No, you are not, Kyena! You’re like a saber on blood. All you want is blood and it’s the wrong one!” Myn roared, bringing her fist down on the arm of her chair. The child let out a wail, Myn bouncing her and saying soothing things to try to quiet her down. After a moment she did, falling back asleep in her aunt’s arms. “Tay-”

“You should’ve been a mother, Myn.” Kyena said quietly, munching at a piece of bread and cheese.

The girl let out a sigh, playing with a wave of her niece’s hair. “There are many things that I should have been. A mother among them.” She raised her eyes from the child’s and met Kyena’s. “I have been a mother, Kyena. To Eraenia. And to Taylande, but I’ve missed that opportunity.”

“There was not much I could do.”

“She should be  _ here _ .” Myn challenged.

“It’s what she wanted, Myn. Who am I tell to her what she can do?” She asked, her voice quiet, thoughtful.

Myn chewed at her lip and moved onto another subject. She knew they were getting nowhere fighting like this. “Have you named her?” She asked curtly.

“No.”

Myn deliberated a moment. “Tuernadorae.”

Kye looked a bit taken aback. “You’d name her ‘Child of Regret’? That’s a cruel joke, Myn.”

Myn shook her head vehemently. “No, no. It’s not that she’s the one regretted. It’s the situation she’s been born into. That she has to be hidden away to keep her safe.” She let out a sigh and set Tuernadorae into the box next to the fire. “She’ll know nothing about her name. Not until you’re ready to tell her it’s true meaning.”

Kyena played with her daughter’s foot, giving it a tickle before she stood and hauled Myn into a tight hug. “Take care of Tuernadorae, Myn. Guard her with your life.”

“I expected nothing else, Kyena. I’m not going to let another one of my family die.”

Kyena left her daughter behind. She left Myn behind. Lahk’heim. She left behind her regret that she couldn’t give her children the lives she had wanted for them. That she couldn’t find a way to give the Moonblades peaceful lives.

Tuernadorae. How fitting a name for a Moonblade.


	6. The Hunt

“What a surprise to find Fanarol Silverblade wandering the forests.” The venom dripped from Kyena’s voice, lacing the air with malice. Fanarol stopped in his tracks, paling a bit. He turned towards where her voice came from, sitting on a low hanging branch just above his head. His eyelid twitched around the ground up remains of his eye, purple blood crusted all around it.

The left side of his face, or what was left of it, was hanging on by nothing. Old blood crusted that as well, maggots and other parasites making their homes in the gangrenous mass of infection that became his face after her niece decided to play with knives when he pushed her too far.

Like the lion, Taylande had turned out to be. It had taken Kyena forever to track down the isolated cabin in the middle of the woods. Even long to know that Fanarol wasn’t the sweet and kind man that Lan had claimed him to be before they killed her. How slippery Fanarol was. Like a snake.

But that was then.

And now the snake was the deer, cornered with nowhere to run.

Endlessly she’d hunted him after that, all the while figuring new tortures for him. New ways to exact her revenge.

She called for the men to follow her as she locked a collar around Fanarol’s throat tight enough to make him wheeze. She grabbed up the length of chain attached to it by a ring of metal, leading him further out of the jungle and out into the deserts of what was now called Desolace. It was but a small section of the larger desert of Silithus. Kyena loathed to set foot in her most hated place but she had to. For Lan and for Tay. For their lives that he ruined.

“It’s certainly nice to see you again, _Kyena._ ” Fan purred. He had to look up at Kyena through his stringy hair, slowly shifting colors under her gaze from a dark purple to a dusky blue, darkening further until it looked as if stars might start popping out like a nighttime sky.

“Can’t say I return the pleasure.”

His eye finally met Kyena, though he saw nothing but a dark shadowed shape where she stood in front of him. After a few more hours of walking, they came to the camp that Kyena had set up a few days prior, sure that she was coming close to her prey. “What are you doing with me?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with.” She yanked him over to where she’d sunk a pole into the ground, a loop attached to it at the top, and secured him into the pole. She kept the collar locked around his throat, smirking down at him as she bound his hands above his head.

“Quite kinky, Kyena.” Then he was spitting blood as Kyena’s nails raked over his face, pus leaking from where she’d burst the packets on what remained of his skin. He didn’t have time to come up with another remark before Kyena’s knee crushed his nose. Then she was punched him, over and over and over again until all he could see was black. All anyone could hear was her angered grunts of exertion.

She punched until one of the men came forward and touched her arm. Bits of bone and pus and blood dripped down her knuckles. She looked down at Fanarol, still breathing shallowly. She sneered down at him and spat in his face before she spun away to wrap up her knuckles for the next time. This wasn’t the last of Fanarol’s troubles. Not by a long shot. No, Kyena had a whole week of tortures planned for Fanarol.

~~~~~~

Revenge was sweet. The revenge for Landrelia. For Myn’ra. For Taylande. For Taryanda. Revenge for them all, but mostly her niece that had lost a good childhood. A loving mother and uncles that she would have had if Kyena hadn’t failed to protect them.

Her revenge was sweet. This was only one portion, her beating him. Making him feel like Landrelia and Taylande felt for years.

More importantly what Landrelia felt.

Thus the hired men that had followed her from one side of Kalimdor to the other searching for Fanarol. It never mattered how much she offered to them, they wouldn’t take more than the first hundred gold that Kyena had thrown at their feet before laying out what she wanted them to do.

She’d been lucky when they said they’d do it for free. All of them. The only thing they used the gold for was to buy supplies.

Enough for a good week in the desert.

It had only taken a few months for Kyena to find him and when she called upon the men, each of them had hungry looks in their wild eyes. Ten lined up after Kyena stood from Fanarol, her hands dripping with blood from him and blood from her. It soaked through the sand almost hungrily, seeking out nutrients in the barren waste.

The swelling mass of pus that had been his face was beaten in, shards of bone poking from the skin, greenish liquids leaking from the opened packets. Purple and blue bruises were forming on his skin, blood dripping from everywhere.

His one eye that was left tried to see something but saw the looming shapes of five rather large men standing in a semicircle around him.

Then something clicked.

And he was screaming. Screaming for Kyena to listen to him. To let him go.

_To have mercy._

_“Mercy?_ ” Kyena all about bellowed while the men decided who would get to go first. They stopped in the middle of their talk to look at the furious woman that pushed them aside to squat before Fanarol. “Did you show my sister mercy? Did you show my niece? Did you keep Lithmyr from carving up my thero’shan’s face?” She watched him wince as her words drove into them with all the strength of a stampeding kodo.

How he shrank before her. Fanarol, the man who seemed to tower over everyone was a small little ball under the supernova that she was. Infinitesimal. A spec to be crushed under her leather boots. Something to be torn to shreds with her nails until nothing remained.

How his eyes shifted rapidly from honeyed amber to bright silver before her eyes. She reeled back, pushing her way past the men again, one with black hair moving towards Fanarol while he screamed louder for someone to help him.

“Nobody’s going to hear you out here, little pig, so squeal.” He let out a laugh. “Squeal little piggy, squeal!” He grunted, using a dagger to tear the remains of once expensive trousers from his legs. Fan fought and struggled against the collar that ringed his throat, the chains that held in hands together. But nothing could get him away from this man’s strong grip. Not when there was one thing on his mind.

Fanarol’s screams were music to Kyena’s ears as she set up her stool across from the line of men, her eyes boring holes into Fanarol’s as he submitted to what was being done to him.

There was nowhere to run. Nothing to do. It was inevitable as the rising moon.

~~~~~~

Fanarol wasn’t shown mercy. For days on end. He knew fear and pain and blood. How he wished that he could shed this skin, show Kyena that she had both the right and the wrong man.

Nails peeled from their beds slowly. Saltwater poured over them. Bark shoved into the soft purpley flesh. Blood would cake his hands for days. His fingers throbbed at the loss of the nail, especially his thumb. It pulsated along with his broken heartbeat.

He lost count of the whippings he took.

The days that passed while the men took their turns with him.

The opened wounds that Kyena herself would pack with salt and fruit juice and sand. 

How she used him for target practice. Both with Jai’alator and her bow.

He could only watch Jai’alator in the hands of an avenging angel, much like he pictured Tary would’ve been, had she gotten to use it.

Oh, how his jaw ached ceaselessly when they tired of other places. How fast Kyena ripped out his teeth when he tried to bite one of them.

Relentless.

He’d antagonize Kyena endlessly. Trying to get her to snap and break his neck. Slit his throat. Anything but this pain all over his body. 

He spoke of how sweet her sister’s cunt was. How much he enjoyed breaking her. How he enjoyed beating Taylande. But she’d stalk off. Speaking low with the men and then it’d begin again.

He prayed for death for weeks.

But death never came.

~~~~~~

“What happened to your baby, Kyena?” He lisped. It was harder to understand him after she pulled out every single tooth in that mouth.

Kyena pared off a section of apple, watching Fanarol’s chained form across the fire from her. It was far enough away that he wouldn’t feel too much of the warmth, just enough to keep him from rattling his chains in the night. “She was born.”

Kyena watched him smile and threw the rest of the apple at his face. He seemed mostly unfazed but it wiped the smile from him. 

“Who’s is she? Are you still mated to Sheo-”

“DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!” She kicked over the section of trunk that she sat upon when she jumped from her seat, waking one man from his tent. “You never speak his name or I’ll carve your tongue from your mouth.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he shook, trying to make himself look small under her glare. 

“I believed in you.” He heard her say. He’d heard her say it hundreds of years earlier, when he truly thought that Nilan hadn’t yet abandoned him. “I believed in you so much. I forgave you for ever hurting my sister. For killing her. My parents never did.”

He let a tear slip from his good eye.

He heard her boots crunch over to him through the sand. Felt her eyes on him. “He died here. Sheodraen.” He could feel the anger roll off her in waves. It turned his stomach at such a deep hatred and wrath could live in one that looked half an angel. At least to him. “He died here when Draennah was hardly toddling around. And so are you.”

She flipped over the dagger in her hands. “But first, we need to take take of something, Fanarol. You know what they do to sabers that are too aggressive?” Lithmyr tried to swallow past the dryness of his throat but he only choked. “The ones they aren’t going to use for breeding purposes, they relieve them of their manhood. Though usually it's only the balls. Why go through the useless trouble of removing everything?”

She gripped his chin, making his one remaining eye meet her blazing liquid silver. So different from Tary’s honeyed ones. “I’m going to go to that trouble, Fanarol. I’m going to give them something else to fuck.” 

And she thrust the dagger downwards, the scream that tore from Lithmyr’s throat was enough for him to think this was the end. This was going to be the one thing to kill him after all these weeks. 

This was a worse pain than Landrelia’s kicks that rendered them almost useless anyways. Blood was warm between his thighs again. Kyena had quick fingers, almost like she’d done this before. 

Most likely she had.

It felt like an eternity. She sawed through flesh with the blunted knife that Lithmyr realized all too late was rusted and much too small to be anything other than a knife that one would use to apply butter to their bread. It explained all the sawing that she had to do, why it was tearing more than cutting. 

When she pulled her hands away from his crotch, nothing was left. Nothing but the blood that covered her hands all the way up to her elbows. That spattered her face and hair.

From this close, Lithmyr could see the bear tattoo that Kyena had gotten on the right side of her neck. “I’m not...Fanarol.” He whispered, hopefully loud enough for Kyena to hear. Then his vision blackened further and he slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~

The pain was what woke him again. The throb and then the sudden realisation of  _ loss  _ and then he was throwing up whatever remained in his stomach.

Someone unlocked his hands and they fell into his lap, cracking through the dried blood. He let out another scream, his stomach spasming from pain.

Someone hauled him to his feet and made him march further into the desert. He caught the blaze of purple hair and knew that the end had come. She’d grown bored or gotten every last idea out of her head.

“Hail and farewell, Fanarol Silverblade.” One quick slice to the bindings at his wrists had them apart. Then another slice at his remaining eye and he was blind. 

The last blinding pain he felt was at the backs of his thighs and he fell forwards into the sand, blood leaking from everywhere.

“My hunt is over.” 

And that was the last voice that Lithmyr Silverblade ever heard.


	7. Rediscovery

_Ashenvale, four hundred years later..._

Green monstrosities roamed the lands around Elunheim. Some say that they came from beyond the stars. Others said they were another race that the Kaldorei hadn’t wiped out. Perhaps this is what became of the Vrykul that dwelled in the northernmost parts of Kalimdor thousands of years ago.

Whatever they were, Kyena made sure that not one lived. Not when they sought to reduce her beloved woods to nothing but ashes. Ashenvale they were beginning to call the old Nightsong Woods where Elunheim resided. Near half was a smoldering cinder, cleared of every tree for the green monster’s war machines. Kyena slaughtered them all. Jaleth by her side. Myn in the shadows. Kalen stayed close beside his father. Kyena wouldn’t let Draennah join the fighting even if she had been training hard every single day for nearly a thousand years beyond her thousandth birthday. She was safe far from the fighting with the children and men who couldn’t fight. 

Kyena made her way up the hill to where the Kaldorei were keeping their intelligence reports. Dozens of scouts watched the orcs’ movements. Not one step went unnoticed by them. “Scout Ilae, report.” Kyena commanded as she crested the hill. The scout materialized from the shadows, flanked closely by her two brothers, one elder on her right and the left the younger.

The huntress gave them cursory glances to check if they were adequately healthy. They armored themselves the same for their scouting missions. None of the scouts wore traditional boots, instead they had cloth that wrapped under their feet and wound it’s way up to their knees, covered with a strap of leather under their foot, along with a greave of leather. Every one of the three scouts wore night black leather and cloth armor for stealth. A simple tight fit leather jerkin over a tight shirt to avoid chafing and black linen trousers, thick enough so they didn’t have to layer up in the cold. A hood and mask covered their silvery hair. Even in darkness their silver tresses were a dead giveaway in the green and brown leaves.

“There has been a camp being set up, Milady Moonblade-”

“Stormbow for now, Scout Ilae. Call me nothing else but Stormbow.” Kyena cut in, helping herself to a bit of cheese and crusty bread. She was glad that the Kaldorei had thought of bringing in some small food stores to the rearguard.

Ilae let out a deep sigh and pulled the hood from her head as she did so. She was the most impatient of the three, the most likely to do something reckless and idiotic so she could fight something. She was a quick thinker and even quicker with her twin pair of fighting knives. A fairly large dagger was thrust into her belt, along with a few other smaller ones for throwing. Kyena was surprised she didn’t have her pride and joy with her, an axe nearly as big as Jai’alator that she had taken from one of her kills. She had sawn off some of the handle and had a blacksmith reshape the oversized axehead into something usable. “As I was saying, _Milady Stormbow_.” The scout grumbled, moving onto her business. “The iszera dun’a are building a logging camp a few short miles from Elunheim. We’ve been watching their movements and we believe that they are going to attack. There’s been a large influx of men and women to the area, along with what we assume is their blacksmith or weapon maker. They’re even carting in children to work there.” She summarized, pointing the location out on the map crudely burned into a flat section of wood. The other two stood behind her with their arms behind their backs, chests puffed out proudly.

It was true the camp was not that far from empty Elunheim. Tyrande had ordered them to abandon their home when the green ones first came that far into the forest for their own safety. Down to the south of them lay Elunheim and the camp. Not a far journey, perhaps a half a day from the village of Astranaar.

“Then we bring a fight to them before they can make themselves comfortable there. If they seek to take Elunheim and use her for firewood they must earn it with blood.” Kyena announced, her finger tracing the runes for her beloved home. Nearly twenty thousand years Elunheim stood, or so the records said. The math was a bit shaky from archive to archive and their book never said when exactly they built their home. “Ilae. Maelorn. Leave. Galidor, you stay, I have some words for you.”

The woman and her younger brother listened without hesitation and melted back into the treeline. Galidor stayed and eyed Kyena nervously. This was common amongst the Moonleaf three. They were all bastard children, their parents unknown even to the oldest elf. They had been raised with a skilled sentinel who trained even the boys to scout. The three proved to be apt to the skill. “What do you wish to speak with me about, Lady Stormbow?” He asked shakily, his head bowed to her.

“You do not bow to me, Galidor Moonleaf. You bow to no one, remember that. You and I are as equal as one tree and the next.” She placed a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed him towards the map of the Nightsong Woods. She noticed the darkly stained bow that was across his back, the quiver full of arrows just waiting to be used. Arrows that Kyena had shown him how to make. The male smiled at her words and looked over the map with his eyes narrowed. His expression told Kyena that something Ilae had said didn’t quite add up in his mind.

“The village isn’t a war camp, is it Galidor?” Kyena stated matter of factly.

He looked up from the map and shook his head. “Truth be told, Sentinel Stormbow, we’re not sure what it is.” His sighed and ran a hand through his long silvery hair. Then he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword at his side. “It’s the children that are throwing us off. Obviously it’s going to be protected with warriors but they’re still clearing trees. It’s not a staging ground and these...monsters aren’t stealthy enough to sneak into Elunheim, nor further north to Astranaar or Hyjal.” He chewed on his bottom lip in thought.

Kyena let a moment pass before she made her decision. “They burn all the same. Until there is nothing left.” She grabbed his upper arm and made him look into her burning eyes. “That is an order, Galidor. Leave none of them alive to tell the tale.”

The man nodded at her and let out a sigh of relief when she let go and stalked away.

~~~~~~

Myn and Kyena sat high in the treeline, looking down upon the camp still under construction. Children ran about, playing their own games, getting underfoot of the adults. Mothers went about their chores. Men and women alike trained together. They sharpened their weapons together. They mended their armor together. Kyena watched a young girl get her first tattoo for one reason or another.

This was no warmongering village. This was a settlement. A settlement that sought to spring up in the path of Elunheim. For that reason it had to go. They would find another place to send their people to build, far away from this inhospitable place. There were people here long before these newcomers.

“There are women and children in there, Kyena.” Myn hissed, barely above a whisper.

“One of those women could break your back over her knee without a second thought, Myn’ra. Keep that in mind.” She eyed a young boy playing in his mother’s shadow, the woman grinning, or what passed for grinning, and chasing the boy around. These people were happy. They felt safe. “That boy right there wouldn’t hesitate to pull the guts from your belly and wear them as a necklace. Steel your heart, Little Wolf.” Kyena quipped as she slid Zin’rhok from her back and took aim at the nearest warrior, a giant brute of a woman.

All throughout the treeline, a dozen other bow wielding Sentinels did the same.

For a good while, it was chaos in the camp. They hit them hard and fast, leaving nothing standing in their way. They cut through the men. They cut through the women.

They butchered the children.

“Burn them all.” Kyena panted, wiping Jai’alator on the shirt of some man monster.

Myn looked at her strangely. It was not a look of pride. It was a look full of fear and unease. “Kyena, what have we done?” She whispered, looking at the black blood on Cortana’s blade. “What have we done?”

“We’re in a war, Myn’ra. These monsters have done much the same to our own children.”

“They didn’t beg for their lives, Kyena. They fought until every single one of them was dead.” Myn shook her head, glancing around until her eyes landed on the woman and her son from earlier. She’d fought the hardest. Her son as well, giving Kyena a good slice on her arm with his mother’s axe. “What is wrong with these monsters?”

Kyena relieved him of his head after that. She showed them no mercy.

They all left as soon as the fire took. A rain had fallen the day before, so much of the surrounding forest wasn’t going to be touched by the flames.

_ A village of ash and fire. _ Kyena thought as she walked away towards Elunheim, still safe and whole in the distance. No monster threatened her home anymore.

The three Moonleafs followed behind her, covered in black blood. Though it hardly showed on their dark armor.

None of them seemed bothered by the slaughter.


	8. Fallen Forest

The Kaldorei had won their battles but the orcs had also won their own. Parts of the Nightsong woods were reduced to nothing where the orcs had cleared the trees for their new capital. The orcs had even claimed their own lands on the eastern coast of Kalimdor.

It had taken much to rouse the Lord of the Forest to their cause. It reminded Kyena of the War of the Ancients ten thousand years ago, the demigods flowing over that last battlefield before everything tore itself apart. She remembered it fondly. The rage and the terror and the coppery tang of indigo blood.

Draennah sat in Elunheim’s armory with Dorini’tole in her hands. Kyena fought hard to get Draennah a teacher that would help her learn Sheodraen’s craft. She showed promise but many of the people Kyena knew told her that it was pointless for Draennah to learn a man’s profession. They told her to rein her daughter in and get her in with the Sentinels like any good girl should be, or perhaps even the Sisterhood. A teacher had been found who would teach her but not until she was blooded in war. He wanted to make sure that Draennah truly wanted to stick with this path. It was not for everyone, he had said, it required a special type of person. Kyena had ignored the glare the teacher gave to Draennah.

Sheodraen had a walking stick that he always had with him since the beginnings of his training with Cenarius. Draennah had always pulled the thing down from it’s rest when she grew tall enough to reach it. She would practice with it like Kyena had shown her, a sequence long remembered from the Sisterhood.

Kyena watched Draennah through the open door of the armory. She readied herself, Dorini’tole held tight in her grip, planting her feet firmly on the ground. Overhand. Left. Right. Her face was a mask of concentration and anger. Over and over she drilled the movements into her muscles. The tree tattoo that covered a good portion of her ribs over her heart peeked out above the bindings as it curved its way up to her shoulder. The leaves were in full bloom, even some flowers opened on her side.

“You want to fight.” Kyena smiled when Draennah whirled around with Dorini’tole at the ready. Her eyes were as wide as plates as she took in the sight of her intruder.

She rested the butt of Dorini’tole on the floor. She stood proudly with her chest puffed out, shoulders back. The muscles in her arms flexed as she gripped the staff. “You snuck up on me.” Draennah wheezed as she fought to regain her breath. Her dark Seawhisper hair was pulling from her long braid. Never had she let Kyena take a blade to her hair, instead she just braided it like her mother, now it hung nearly to her knees. Today it was bound up at the nape of her neck looking nearly like a flower blooming. “How long were you there?”

“Long enough.” Kyena sauntered into the room, her fingers brushing over a collection of ordinary blades still in their scabbards on the wall. Fingers ran over the polished wood of spears. Past Zin’serrar and Kal’talah on their racks, the leather oiled until it gleamed. She eyed the bows she had made throughout her time at Elunheim. Longbows as tall as herself. Recurves. Composites. When she reached Jai’alator she traced the outlines of the dragons she had embossed on its worn scabbard, from staple to staple down the body. She smiled at the tree on the silver tipped ferrule, tarnished with age. Kyena was surprised that Tor’landa’s original scabbard was still useable after twenty thousand years.

Kyena could feel Drae’s eyes on her as she moved around the armory. Finally she came to rest in front of Tor’landa’s armor, gleaming until Kyena could see her reflection in it’s surface. Of course all those years ago when she fought against the Burning Legion her mother had kept the actual armor safe. Ay’hrae had given her Jiasia Stormbow’s armor to Kyena all those years ago, a mix of mail and leather. She still wore it to this day, though she would wear Tor’landa’s breastplate in place of the mail one from Jiasia. She dug her fingers into the punch through the breastplate, wide enough to fit Jai’alator’s blade through. Right above the heart. Absentmindedly Kyena touched the scaly patch of skin above her heart. It felt no different from anywhere else on her person, just the difference in patterning.

Draennah shared this mark. Along with Tuernadorae, who was proving herself to be an adept priestess in the Temple of Winterspring with Myn’ra. She always sent her letters about her, sometimes in Nadae’s own hand.

“Are you angry, Min’da?” Drae couldn’t keep the edge of worry from her voice. She was always the pleaser, always one to speak with soft words and a gentle heart. Sometimes though, she was her mother’s daughter. She could be angry and hurtful when she wanted to be. She shared her drive, her dry wit. Her love of being in high places. Jaleth was always terrified that Drae would fall and break her neck or her arm. Kyena had no such doubts about her daughter’s ability for balance and grace.

Kyena smiled and turned to eye Draennah. “No.” She walked over and put a hand on Drae’s shoulder. “It’s time for you to see a battle. To see war.” Kyena let out a sigh and tucked a piece of loose hair behind Drae’s ear. “I can’t keep you from war. Not anymore.” She gave her a sad smile and patted Draennah's cheek before she left.

~~~~~~ 

Draennah followed along with awe plainly written across her face. This is where the elves had made a camp across from the Orcish forces in Ashenvale. She held onto the extra swords from Elunheim, ones forged by Jaleth’s hand at their own forge. Her eyes darted here and there, watching women and a handful of men paint themselves for war, sharpening their blades, mending armor. Kyena led her through the organized chaos that was a war camp into the tent she and Jaleth had erected. In there sat their own armor along with Kalen’s and Draennah’s new leather set. Almost an exact copy of the armor that the Sentinels gave to their members with a few modifications by Kyena. Mostly in the way of actual pants along with the skirt and a leather jerkin that actually covered her vital organs. She did need those still intact to fight and well, to live.

When Kyena had dropped off the blades at her tent and donned her armor, she turned to Drae and helped her into her armor, settling the sword belt on her hips and giving her one of Elunheim’s extra swords. A pair of fighting knives were within easy reach on her back along with a recurve that both she and Kyena had made together. Little leaves and vines danced their way up the arms of the bow. Draennah had drawn what she wanted and Kyena did most of the carving, though she did show her daughter the basics. She caught on quickly but she couldn’t make what was in her head translate to the wood.

Kyena absentmindedly braided back her daughter’s hair into something that wouldn’t get into her way. Two thin braids at her temples, a thicker one on the top of her head all met at the nape of her neck where they all came into one. Then she set her helm on her daughter’s head. 

Kyena had to smile at her daughter when she stood and turned to show her. “You look like a warrior, Draennah.” She couldn’t keep the tightness out of her voice as she spoke. She turned slightly so she could call outside the tent. “Jaleth, come here and look at your niece.”

Jaleth appeared through the tent flap, breaking into his characteristic lopsided grin. “Oh, anu k’laen elun, look at you. You look like your mother.” He cupped her cheek, Draennah beaming up at him for a moment. But there was an edge to that smile. A sadness she kept locked away and colored over it with bravery and courage and happiness.

Drae took a deep breath to steady herself, allowing a tight smile. “I don’t feel like her.” She said quietly, plopping down on a short stool. She rested her elbows on her knees, letting her head fall into her hands. “I have all of this armor and I still do not feel like a warrior.” She toyed with a leaf in her hands, her eyes seemingly taking in nothing but that. The grass that made up the floor of the tent seemed to wilt with her mood. Strands of it grew around her feet, making a ladder to nearly her knees before she noticed that she made them grow. She made them go back down, hoping that no one had seen. 

But Kyena and Jaleth had seen. Suddenly Kyena stood and held out her hand to Draennah to help her from her seat. She hauled her up and led her from the tent, giving Jaleth a pat on his armored shoulder before she and Draennah took off to the treeline.

After a few minutes of hiking Draennah’s curiosity needed to be satisfied. “Where are we going, min’da?” She asked haltingly.

“I’m taking you to meet Cenarius, child.” Her response was short. She knew that the Forest Lord wouldn’t be happy to see her. If he was she’d be surprised.

“Cenarius?” Drae questioned, following closer to Kyena’s side. “Didn’t he teach my father how to be a druid?”

Kyena’s chest felt tight as she made her way through a maze of trees. She was going to answer but she merely nodded and kept on her way. That was a whole sticky situation that didn’t need discussed. Not now at least.

They finally came upon a large clearing when Kyena stopped them short. She sat down cross legged on the ground, unbuckling Jai’alator and her bow sheath from her side to lay them on the ground next to her.

“Min’da, what-”

“Just sit, Draennah, and wait. He’ll be here soon.” Kyena patted the ground to her left. Drae pulled off her helm as she sat and sat it next to her. She let out a squeak when the pommel of the sword jabbed into her side. Quickly she unbuckled her sword belt and laid it beside her as well. A couple minutes later Cenarius showed up in the clearing. Kyena was dozing off after fighting sleep for too long, though Draennah felt no drowsiness.

“You are the child of Sheodraen, young one?” Called a booming voice through the treeline.

Draennah swiveled around, her eyes darting here and there but catching no glimpse of the Forest Lord. “Yes, Lord of the Forests. I am Draennah Mylia Moonblade, Kyena Moonblade’s daughter.” She cleared her throat and coughed, scanning the edge of the trees once more. “And Sheodraen Starheart’s too.” She could barely remember the face, though there were a few things that stuck out in her memory, like the seafoam green hair long unkempt. The emptiness of his right sleeve. A muted angry tone.

“You want to learn his craft.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes.” Again, she tried to catch a glimpse to no avail until she turned all the way around when she felt a massive foot or hoof step lightly behind her back. She gazed up at him, towering over her, half stag half night elf. Antlers rose from his forehead, crowning his head in their splendor. A beard the color of moss covered his jaw and cheeks, long hair of the same color reaching down to his shoulders. He regarded Draennah with a stern expression, though she felt nearly at peace in his presence. “I would give anything to learn.”

At that Cenarius allowed a small smile. “Your father was the same way. He was always eager to learn. He hated the Highborne, he hated that they did not love the earth beneath their pretty little feet.” He nodded at a memory. “Is this why your mother brought you to me?” He pointed at Kyena’s prone form next to Draennah. She’d nearly forgotten she was there.

The tiredness seemed to melt off of her face. She didn’t look so pinched and stretched thin when she finally closed her eyes, though the evidence of sleeplessness had been etched on her face long ago. The dark blue circles under her eyes, not hidden by the three claws that lined her face from forehead to jaw. Draennah knew every curve and swirl in those claws. She knew the story behind Kyena’s choice. A bear silver and purple came from the woods and touched her face gently. She was nearly scared half to death. Her and Landrelia.

Drae spluttered something unintelligible as she explained the events that happened earlier with the grass growing just because she wished that she could grow into something amazing like her mother. “I know that’s not a druid made, Cenarius but I want to know more. I want to learn to speak with the trees and the plants. I want to  _ know. _ ”

Cenarius cast a glance around the clearing. When she and her mother had arrived, there was nothing blooming here, not a flower or bud, just a circle of trees ringing a space full of grass. Now there was bursts of color. Mageroyal. Silverleaf. Purple lotus. Fadeleaf. Goldthorn. Wildflowers. It was a cacophony of red and silver and purple along with blues and greens. In the span of a few moments the space became something else entirely.

“I believe the spirits already listen to you, Draennah Mylia Moonblade, daughter of Kyena Moonblade and Sheodraen Starheart.” He bent to touch the top of her head. “I will speak with my other students. It’s high time there were more women in this craft. I believe that you can do this, Draennah.” He gazed into her eyes, searching for something. “The spirits believe in you.” With that, he bounded away, leaving Draennah with the sleeping form of her mother.

~~~~~~

Her mother woke not long after Cenarius had left. The two of them made their way back to the camp in silence once more. Draennah knew that her mother was just letting her find her own words.

She took in a deep breath, adjusting the strap of her sword belt before she spoke. “Cenarius came.”

“Did he now? I told you, he’d come sooner or later.” Kyena cracked a smile, turning back to Draennah while she walked through the trees. “He put me to sleep, didn’t he?”

Draennah smiled herself and shrugged. “If he did, he did not speak a word to me.” Her heart felt lighter in her chest after her encounter with Cenarius. “Do you feel rested, min’da?”

Kyena stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders before she answered. “Like I slept deeply for a hundred years.” She rolled her neck, sighing as it cracked. “I feel refreshed.”

Drae smiled and walked side by side with her mother as the trail widened into the camp.

It was a chaos of people taking down their tents, making it look as if no one had been there before Draennah and Kyena’s eyes.

Kalen came sprinting to Kyena’s side as soon as he saw Kyena. Hot on his heels was a silver haired girl and a pair of boys sharing the same hair color. They must be the three Moonleafs that her mother was always talking about. “Orcs are closing in, shal’nar. They’ll be here any moment.”

A slow, predatory smile graced Kyena’s lips. “And so it begins.” Kyena let out a low whistle, Eludore came barreling from the direction of their tents with Jaleth on her back. The saber skidded to a halt in front of Kyena and rubbed her head under her hand to get Kyena to pet her. “Ready for war, Eludore?” She scratched under the saber’s chin, getting her to purr. 

Jaleth slid from her back. “I’ve gotten everything put somewhere safe, Kyena.” He said softly, his fingers disappearing into the depths of Eludore’s fur. He held out two quivers full of Kyena’s arrows, both for Draennah. “Draennah, you will be staying with the archers, behind the main host. You go nowhere else unless either myself, Kyena or Kalen comes for you. Do you understand?” He held back the quiver from Draennah’s grasping hands for a moment, meeting her eyes to plead with her silently.

Draennah sighed and nodded, ripping the quivers from his hands faster than he could pull them away again, a grin pulling at her lips as well as his. He loved to tease her endlessly. Those two were thick as thieves, nearly as much as Kalen and Draennah.

He handed her the bow she had made from one of Eludore’s saddlebags and unhooked the girth from the saber’s chest. Kyena may be able to ride without a saddle but he could not. Especially not with Kyena’s touchy sabers. She had them trained to go one speed and that was incredibly fast. At the slightest squeeze with your knees they’d shoot off to where you directed them. He’d been dumped off too many times to not learn his lesson.

“Form up!” Called their commander. Kalen and Jaleth gave Draennah a reassuring smile and made their way to their places. Kyena would be staying behind with Draennah until her arrows ran out, then she’d be moving forward to the fighting.

The pair made their way to the back of the host. Zin’rhok sat in its sheath on Kyena’s side, her quiver of arrows on her back with a dragon blazoned on the front.

The battle began shortly after that, Kyena directing the flow of arrows with her great booming voice. Knock, pull, loose. Over and over again. They felled a couple of the orcish brutes. But these were strange orcs, as if they weren’t strange enough already. They were red in color, angrier and more violent than they had been before. They were twisted and horrid imitations of the green skinned ones. Even they weren’t so monstrous.

When Kyena ran out of her arrows she pulled Jai’alator from her side and gave Drae a pat on the cheek before she charged forward and met an orc before he could plow into the more organized archers. The frontlines had long since devolved from their ranks when they first met the orcs.

Then a figure came leaping from the trees, followed closely by the Keepers of the Grove and the Forest Nymphs. Sabers, bears and owls all came to the night elves aid for this one battle. Distantly, Draennah could see Eludore clamping her massive jaws around an orc’s neck, her fur coated with black blood.

It was Cenarius come to help the Kaldorei. Draennah let out a long cry at his presence.

Then the tides started to turn against him. The orcs were too strong. They were almost...possessed. They finally got close to the Forest Lord, cutting through the others in their efforts to get to him. The slaughtered without mercy, without feeling. It was as if killing Cenarius was the one thing on their minds.

“Cenarius!” Draennah cried as the horrible red skinned orcs swung at him. She took off running, drawing her bow as she did so. But she was not half as good of a shot as Kyena, who could seemingly work magic aiming and shooting her bow even while running. She clipped one orc, the next three sailed around them without hitting a single one. Tears of shame and fear welled up in her eyes.

“Draennah!” Kalen called. She could hear his feet closely behind hers as she sprinted towards the one who believed in her. The one who showed her which path she truly wanted to be on. Let her slumber her life away in the Dream. Let her run with the Forest Nymphs and the Keepers.

Kalen caught her by the strap of her bow sheath, dragging her to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs from the force of her hitting the earth. Then he was dragging her away, the strap wrapped around his sword arm. The shield Kyena begged him to use was strapped across his chest, his sword in his left hand, dragging Draennah with his right, his stronger hand.

“Nooo.” Draennah wailed. “CENARIUS!” She stretched her hand to the Forest Lord, letting a sob escape her throat when he finally fell to the red skinned leader.


	9. New Additions

The pink skinned ones sent envoys to speak with Tyrande. They said they could not fight a two front war, one with the Orcs and the other with the Kaldorei. They needed to forge their two forces together. Some even said that the dead were coming back. That their Crown Prince Arthas was running rampant in the Eastern Kingdoms with an army of undead.

Galidor fumbled with his saber’s saddle. He hated travelling by saber, much preferring the canopy, as did his bastard siblings. Tyrande had called most of the squadron that was under Kyena’s command to meet with these humans. She’d even taught her some Common so they could communicate with each other during the meeting. These humans were to be incorporated into her squadron for the upcoming battle at Hyjal. 

Draennah plodded along as well, her shoulders slumped as if she was curling in on herself.

Kyena hated both Orcs and Humans. But she had to suck it up for the sake of her people. A greater enemy was fast closing in to their lands and some even said they had caught glimpses of demons invading their world again. If there was one thing that Kyena did not want in her world, that was more demons. She’d fought two wars against them and didn’t feel like fighting them a third time.

“Shan mush’a, where are we meeting with these humans?” Ilae urged her saber up closer to Kyena’s. The girl looked a bit peeved to be dragged from the action. She rather liked when she and her brothers were fighting guerilla. Quickly in then out, like a lightning bolt. Kyena smothered her smile before she cast Ilae a silencing glance. 

They lumbered past the silent trees. All the way back to Hyjal they went, far from the fighting. Far from Jaleth and Kalen. This was the one mission where she had to fight tooth and nail to get Draennah from the front lines. But Draennah belonged with the druids. She needed to be training. Learning her craft and getting better. But instead she had to stay in the rearguard with the archers because Tyrande wanted her there.

Ever since they had lost Cenarius, Draennah had been despondent. She rarely wanted to eat. All she did was make more and more arrows like how Kyena had shown her. Her eyes were tired but she still made arrows. She filled enough to last for a good battle.

Kyena called them to a halt a little ways from the settlement near Nordrassil. This was where they had gone to meet the new members of their squadron.

“Greetings.” Called one human with hair black as night. Her mate stood beside her, from what Kyena could tell. The human woman was heavily pregnant and a younger girl that was nearly her spitting image of her mother. “My name is Paladin Selena Blackwood. This is my husband, Paladin Titus Blackwood.” She clapped her hand on the man’s armored shoulder, sending clinking all throughout the woods. 

Kyena had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. If the orcs or demons were out there, they’d have heard them by now, like a herd of kodo.

“This is my daughter and squire, Evangeline Blackwood.” The paladin woman smiled at her mirror image, giving her a gentle pat on her back. She nodded towards Kyena by way of giving speech over to her.

Kyena spoke very little common and it was heavily accented but nevertheless, she introduced her squadron that she had brought with her. “I am Kyena Moonblade. These are Galidor Moonleaf, Ilae Moonleaf and Maelorn Moonleaf.” She pointed to each one who still sat on their sabers. They were too busy eyeballing these small pink things to dismount.

The human gaped up at Kyena when she took a few steps forward with her hand outstretched. “Light, you’re all so  _ tall _ .” She grabbed Kyena’s hand, hers getting lost, and vigorously wiggled it up and down.

Kyena arched a brow at Selena Blackwood. The paladin retreated when Kyena narrowed her eyes down at her. The human might have been tall for her race but compared to Kyena she was a child. Selena waved a hand to some stools nearby, comically small for the Kaldorei. “I think we stand, Paladin.”

Selena rubbed the back of her neck and let out a nervous titter. “Of course, of course.” She retreated to her seat next to Titus, who grabbed up her hand in his.

“You fight?” Kyena knelt next to their fire and prodded at it with a stick until it was roaring again. Her eyes met Selena’s confused ones and Kyena let out a sigh, pointing to her belly.

“Oh!” Selena’s hands went to her stomach possessively, almost clutching it to herself. “Light no, Titus wouldn’t let me. Besides, my son will be here soon. I’ll be staying in your city with the other guards until he arrives.”

“You sure it is boy?”

“You sure it is  _ a _ boy.” The little girl corrected sheepishly. She dropped her eyes from Kyena when she snapped them to her. “Forgive me, my Lady.”

“No Lady.” Kyena pointed to herself and shook her head. “Never  _ a  _ Lady.” She gave the girl a wink, over pronouncing the words with a smirk curling at her lips.

Titus cleared his throat and pulled the girl down next to him. He whispered something in her ear that made her smile and sit on the ground with her arms around her knees. “Forgive my daughter, she’s  _ overly  _ excited to be seeing her first real battle instead of retreating.” Titus’ voice was baritone as he gazed down at his daughter with love in his eyes. “Are we truly going to see Nordrassil, Captain Moonblade?”

Kyena nodded and continued to poke the fire. She slipped into Darnassian for a moment, leaving the humans bewildered and slack-jawed with how fluid she could speak. “Are you four just going to sit there like idiots or are you going to join your new squad mates?”

The three scrabbled closer to the fire but Draennah took her time. When she was finished making sure Henasi was properly taken care of she sat next to Kyena and watched the logs crackle and spit in the pit.

While Titus had eyes on his daughter, she had eyes on Galidor and Maelorn. She watched them both through her lashes, a pink blush creeping on her high cheekbones until most of her face was a shade of pink. Galidor may not have noticed but Maelorn did. He gave the girl a wink and smirked at her sudden squeak. Afterwards she hid behind her hands and tried to refrain from looking at them any longer.

Once more, Kyena switched to Darnassian. “Maelorn. Don’t harass the poor girl. She’s just a child.”

“Come on min’da- mush’a.” He quickly corrected himself, but just a minute too late. He tore his eyes away from Kyena’s and rubbed the back of his neck.

Her brows furrowed and she fought the urge to comfort him. Instead she switched back to Common and told them all to get some sleep, finding the nearest tree and the loftiest branches and stretching out to watch the stars fade slowly to day. She knew that she could never fall asleep and that she’d be tired during the day. These humans were strange.


	10. The Battle for Mount Hyjal

Nordrassil. The one last vestige of the Kaldorei, or Night Elves as they have come to be called by the Humans. The enormous tree sat on the equally as beloved Mount Hyjal. Kyena remembered the time she had sprinting to the foothills, seen Nordrassil in the distance while the Well of Eternity made a whole new ocean.

“Are the humans ready?”

“Yes, Kyena, the humans are ready and they have been ready every time you've asked for the last half hour.” Jaleth sidled up behind her, his hands flat against her belly, pulling her against himself. “Relax, shari, they'll be fine.” He pressed his lips to the crook of her neck and made sure the straps on her breastplate were secure one last time. He finished getting her ready for battle, decked in her mail and plate. Selena would be helping Jaleth into his armor.

Kalendris was already out in the field. Draennah was getting herself into her leather and mail armor, struggling a bit with the legguards but she wouldn't accept any help. Her bow was in its sling on her side, three quivers stocked with her dozens of arrows were going to be waiting for their use. This would be her last battle before she went to join the ranks of the Cenarion Circle and became one of the first female druids.

That was if they all survived. Archimonde had made his way back into their world. The very name sent shivers down Kyena’s spine. She remembered what he did to Cenarius’ father, Malorne. What chance did they have with the might of mortals? Without Cenarius, Kyena didn’t put much stock with her fellow fighters. At least the races of Azeroth were banded together once more. She saw the Tauren again, the tall Trolls, the Orcs.

When she was ready, she made her way out to the main road that led from camp to camp. They hoped the enemy would send their troops in waves so that they’d have something to fall back to. The Kaldorei village was their last stand before Nordrassil. 

A kodo came marching past, carrying two tauren. When the first rider saw Kyena he pulled the kodo to a stop and slid from it, striding over to her with a few long legged strides. The Tauren male was all muscle, arms as thick as Kyena’s torso. He was also three feet taller and had to crane his neck downwards to see her. “You are Kyena.”

The Tauren must have been a student of Cenarius to know some Darnassian. Kyena did a half step backwards and nodded, her hand resting on Jai’alator at her side. “I am Kyena.”

He pounded his chest with his open palm. “I am Kol Lionmane.” The quills on his chestpiece clicked together as he did so. It seemed like the very earth itself spoke when Kol opened his mouth. His dark brown eyes, nearly black, were full of what Kyena hoped was admiration. She was a legend to the Tauren, the descendant of one who helped bring the Kaldorei empire to fruition and fight against all the other races of Azeroth. The Tauren. The Furbolg.

It almost made Kyena laugh. It was plain as the moon how Kol Lionmane got his name. The thick caramel brown hair haloed his head much like, well, a lion’s mane. As did the other Tauren’s, though this one was female. She bowed her head towards the tauren, saying words of blessing in their own tongue. “Do you fight with me?”

Kol nodded slowly in way of answering. The female piped up from behind him, her voice slow and deep like any other tauren. “I am Tipoata Lionmane.” She rumbled, bowing her head and pounding her chest much like her companion had, though without the clinking of quills. Instead she wore a simple cloth band and a leather skirt of sorts. “My father is a druid. I am just here.”

Kyena blinked at Tipoata for a moment before she nodded. “Well, I’ve got to be on my way. It was a lovely chat.” With that she very ungracefully ran away from the two tauren of few words and caught up with Kalendris and Draennah.

“How are you, Min’da?” Kalen gave her the goofiest smile, all teeth. She pulled him under her arm and mussed his hair, a smile of her own tugging at her lips. It was nice to have a short reprieve from the doom that had been cast over her. “Ready for the battle?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Kalen.” She let released him from the circle of her arms. Kalen immediately went to straightening his hair back into place. He slid on his helmet and gave Kyena another smile from under it.

“I know that I’m ready to send these demons back to wherever they came from!” He took off running, letting out a shrill whistle as he did so to call for his saber.

Kyena did the same and made herself ready for battle.

~~~~~~

They were not prepared for the forces that came to them. Twisted demons, horrid abominations of death itself. All in the name of keeping them from Nordrassil. This was one of the last ties that the Burning Legion had to their world. The waters that Illidan had poured into the well beneath Nordrassil. The warriors just had to delay the attackers for long enough until Malfurion could get the primal fury that was locked within the ancient tree to come out and break the chains that would bring the Legion back time and time again until it was broken for good. Again and again these monsters threw themselves at the defenders. Twice already they had to retreat all the way back to the Kaldorei village.

It was here that the defenders really dug in. They could not let the Legion or the Scourge gain another inch here. Kyena and Draennah set up ranks of archers behind the main host. The attackers had to line themselves through a narrow pass into the village until they could spread themselves out. Kyena would use this to their advantage, shooting a bulk of the forces in advance so the defenders didn’t have to slog through so many enemies.

It worked, for a time. All they had was time.

She could see Malfurion making his way to the opposite foothill from Nordrassil, waiting and watching for their leader, otherwise this was all for naught. They had to push Archimonde from Azeroth while he was closest to the World Tree. The fury contained within was hopefully strong enough to send the demons back packing, or at least weaken them so it wasn’t an impossible task.

Like every other battle, Kyena ran out of arrows before Draennah. She mused that she should have spent her time making dozens instead of thinking about the growing threat.

She charged forward with Jai’alator gleaming, it’s runes burning the the sunlight.

_ Do not unsheath me without reason. Do not wield me without valor. _

The demon squealed when she brought the edge through its belly. But the glow never dimmed. If anything, it glowed brighter.

_ For my family. For my people.  _

_ I wield you with valor, Jai’alator. I cleanse you with cursed blood. I cleanse you of his- _

A furious roar rang out over Kyena’s thoughts.

She saw Kalen’s saber suspended over a demon, it’s lance holding the poor beast aloft. 

And she saw Kalen astride it, the point of the lance through his thigh.

“KALENDRIS!” She roared, whipping herself past demon and friendly alike. She swung Jai’alator faster than she thought she could. Time seemed to slow as she engaged the demons and Scourge around Kalendris and his mount.

Then the horn sounded throughout the hills. A deep resonant note. Kyena didn’t see the wisps float towards the huge demon lord. She didn’t care. All she could see was Kalen’s terrified face.

It reminded her of Lan’s before she took off into the woods, chasing after her last child as Fanarol made off with her. The pain and fear and  _ agony. _

She stretched out her fingers to Kalen, shoving Jai’alator through the head of the demon that held him aloft.

And then she was knocked backwards by the blast, slamming into a nearby tree. The world spun before her and faded to black.

~~~~~~

Jaleth prowled the fields after the battle. He’d found Kalen, crawling himself with the lance still in his leg towards the medic’s tent. He’d found Draennah and saw to her wounds. Nothing but superficial cuts and scrapes. He’d found the three bastards, coated in blood but nonetheless unharmed much like Drae.

He stopped Ilae, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Have you seen Kyena?”

Ilae looked up at him, dazed from the blast and shook her head. “Only time I saw her was when she was dashing off like a madwoman towards Kalen.” She gripped her head and Jaleth helped her to the ground.

He scanned the area again and his eyes fell on that deep purple hair.

His heart contracted in his chest. Then it pounded. Fast. Like it was nearly going to burst from his ribs.

“Kyena.”

She didn’t move.

She didn’t stir.

Blood poured from a gash on her forehead. She laid with her head hanging over a fallen tree. Jai’alator was still in her hand, it’s glow dim.

“ _ Kyena _ .” He gasped, stepping over the fallen tree and collapsing beside her. “Sin ana sin.” He let his head fall forward onto her chest and sobbed. He sobbed for a good couple of minutes, pulling Kyena close to him in his arms. He choked on his cries as he rocked them back and forth.

He’d always feared this day.

“Sin ana sin.” He croaked, running his fingers through her hair again and again.

“Blood of my blood.” She coughed, gripping the gorget on his breastplate. Slowly her eyes opened, narrowed in the bright light.

He let out a half sob half gasp. “Are you there, shari?”

“I never left.” She whispered, tugging him to her.

Jaleth helped her to her feet. He helped her find Tipoata and her father, both still largely unharmed.

Then he led her to Selena, sitting on a stump with a thousand yard stare. All her eyes could see was the body laid before her and half a moment later Evangeline came sprinting towards her mother. She must not have seen her father’s body until she noticed Selena hardly saw her.

Eva let out a shrill cry. She ran to her father, sliding on her knees. “Father, no please. Father please!” She cradled his arm to her body. “Not you too.”

Kyena came to her slowly. She let her cry and scream and curse her beloved Light. She rested a hand on Eva’s shoulder and the human shot upwards, beating on Kyena’s breastplate with her ineffectual hands until she held onto Kyena’s arms like they were the only thing holding her upright. She tugged Eva to her, crushing her in a tight hug, brushing back the hair from her tearstained cheeks. “Shhh, k’laen machaera.”

Kyena looked over the devastation that was left of Nordrassil.

The trees were stripped of their boughs. 

_ Nordrassil.  _ A rallying cry that carried over the mountains of Hyjal.  _ Nordrassil. _ Crown of the Heavens. Something so solid and immovable that Kyena would have never dreamed of a day where the tree was not in full bloom, leaves crowning the branches in any weather. She’d made her pilgrimage to the site long ago, when she was just a little girl, to seek a blessing on her. She did not know if Elune truly blessed her that day with her ever watchful eye. She did not know if it was her skill or Elune’s favor that had kept her alive all these long years.

But now that symbol was gone. That everlasting sign that her people had everything. She stifled her own sob, instead one word came from her mouth. Her own cry for her homeland joining with the thousands of others.

“ _ Nordrassil. _ ”


End file.
